TMNT The Glasses of Life Book 3
by MelancolyHills
Summary: Phew, Book 3 is in progress, people! Now that Mel and company have made it to the turtles' dimension, how will they deal with the imminent threats of war and death? What happens when they realize: this isn't just a show anymore?
1. Chapter 1

TMNT The Glasses of Life

Chapter one, Book Three

Karai remembered when Sam had played tour guide for everyone once they'd recovered from the "Leo" thing. She didn't like to call it so, but she couldn't think—really, she didn't want to think of a better name for it.

The place was much bigger than they were expecting, lots of rooms and, with Donnie's help, they now had running water in their "kitchen". Thank god the pool and waterfall at the front had fresh water. As far as a stove went… well, they'd have to improvise. Lucky Mel had brought all those leftovers.

"See?" Quinn had taunted Donnie on their first dinner, her mouth full of meat as she spoke, "I told you you'd thank Mel." Her voice wasn't very clear, but Don had gotten her point.

"Chew the food before you talk, Quinn, no one wants to see chunky-meat-mouth," Mel had chided. Quinn had laughed, turned, opened her mouth right at Mel, then quickly closed it and chewed. Mel chuckled and shook her head. "You're a freak." Quinn had laughed.

Karai was sitting by the pool with her legs in the water, awaiting Mel's return. That supper had been two days ago. Now the food was running out. Mel had asked that someone accompany her to the surface so she could look for a job and remember her way back. When no one had volunteered, fearing the Kraang that were hidden everywhere, she'd done Eenie Meanie Miney Moe. She and Casey and—because he didn't want them running into trouble—Raph were up top. Mel had been smart enough to bring three print copies of her resume and a bunch of paper so she could write others.

In the meantime, Donnie was trying to fix up his laptop and get a decent server that could connect Lair 2 to the internet.

Mikey was swimming, since Sam had asked him not to wander throughout the new Lair. He'd called dibs on one of the empty rooms as his bedroom, which no one really cared about, since they didn't have any mattresses or pillows.

Wayne had Quinn practicing intensely; she'd wanted to surprise Mel once she returned, while he set up his reflex bag in a room of decent size. He set the First-Aid kit in the corner. He did not take out any of his weapons.

"We should paint in here."

"Huh?" Karai snapped out of her thoughts and looked to Mikey, who had emerged from underwater.

"We should paint in here. Like, all over. You know: make it feel homey."

"Oh." Karai bobbed her head and glanced at her bare legs.

"Do you think Mel could paint another picture of us? Like the one in her art room?" Karai shrugged. She knew Mikey was trying to distract her. Karai heard the water sloshing as Mikey climbed out of the pool and sat next to her. Not too close, but he was still in her personal bubble. "I think she should paint you, this time, too. You and Splinter and April and Casey. And Sam." Karai tried her best to smile.

"That's a long list." Mikey laughed a little.

"Well, you're all part of the family." Karai bit her lip. No, she couldn't do this right now. "You know that, right?"

"What about Tigerclaw?" The words flew out before she could think. Mikey, to Karai's shock, wasn't fazed.

"Tigerclaw…? Oh. Yeah, him too." His eyes flashed. "Oh yeah! And Ken-…" He was looking at her face when he stopped. Silence stretched on, then, "… y-you're right; this is a long list."

"Can you play a song I know?" Quinn asked Mel once she finished tuning her guitar. She hadn't had any luck with job hunting, so she'd wanted to relax for awhile. Quinn had been eager to show off a new block she'd sort-of learned, and Mel had praised her, but had been honest: _not quite, but you'll get there_.

"Sure, what song?" Quinn thought it over.

"Clean Freak." Splinter's ears perked upon hearing this. It sounded like… like a song an 11-year-old shouldn't be hearing. Knowing Mel, he was probably right.

He stood and looked at the girls from the "dojo", the room Wayne had set up his bags. Mel was starting to play. To his surprise, Quinn started to sing: "We don't need these unclean, feelings are nothing, anymore, they'll just bore a hole in me, thinking we need to be, so happy, never gonna last, all you ask ends up in the trash…" Mel started to play at hyper speed, so fast it made Splinter dizzy. Then Mel started to sing in Japanese:

""Hito sore zore" to iu kuse shite, kachikan kaikan wakachi ate, tsugou waruku nareba kondo wa, "Hito wa mina" dou no kou no tte iu n da. Sore ja chanto kyou kasho demo, tsukuri chanto teigi shite yo, hito no aru BEki iki kata toka, kiyoku tadashii danjo kankei." Splinter knew what she was saying, and he was seething.

Quinn had started singing again, the chorus, he assumed: "No one can save the human race, yeah we were late to see it's really not a race, go with the flow and just give in, you know we think the same 'cuz changing is a pain, messy things like emotions creep, into the wall we call a heart made out of stone, looking out for a scene like war, so unclean, dirty, just keep away from me."

Casey didn't know when the duo had started to sing, but the song had hit him. He'd stumbled out of his newly claimed room and stood behind the girls. They would switch between Japanese and English, but Casey got the point. Bluntly; the world was a dirty place, and the human race was not doing a thing about it.

Casey would never understand it. How could anyone be so selfish, let alone three quarters of the world? People were dying every day, how was it that no one was panicking and _doing_ something about it?! Why hadn't the people with power _done_ something?!

"Sousa bokura itsumo yoku ni doku sarete wa, te ni irete wa sugu ni akite hoori dashite sa, soshite mata tsugi no omocha wo mitsuke iu n da, "Kimi shika inai n da"." Casey had no idea what Mel had said, but he still agreed with her.

"Who can say, it ain't that way? Yeah we all know egos are taking up the space, I don't know, it may be true, don't wanna see the clean me dyed in dirty paint, cool my brain and turn away, don't wanna look to see the mean hypocrisy, why not cry until I'm fine? Don't wanna touch you please, just keep away from me."

It was too late to save the world now. The Kraang had invaded, and no one could take them over. No one, except for him. Casey and the rest of the group. They would save the human race, even though most of them didn't deserve it.

"DAME datta n da jinrui wa, sore wa tou ni tou ni te okure de, EGO bakka no sekai nante, iki wo suu no datte konnande," Mel sang whilst her fingers were practically smoking from playing so fast.

"Everyone knows, since long ago, we've been a selfish race with nothing more to show, shutting my mouth, I'll quit for now, I don't know, ya know? This is bye-bye." Casey watched the hypnotic movements of Mel's fingers until the song fell silent. Only then did he notice that everyone else in the new lair, except for Splinter and Leo, were seated criss-cross applesauce around him, all staring at Mel and Quinn.

It was a nice song.

No.

Wrong.

It was a nice voice that sang the song and showed the pictures, the song wasn't nice at all. It was blunt, and, according to the girl who sang it with the pictures, truthful. Hey, her eyes… Leo gasped quietly.

It was her, the girl with the purple eyes, the one who'd said his name. Leo let his breath out. He was on his hands and knees at the edge of his room, straining for her voice. It had made him… calm, he supposed was a good word for it. Even though the song wasn't calm, it had demanded his attention. And Keeper hadn't been there.

Leo backed into his room and sat against the wall. He saw Keeper a lot, even though he was home. Sam had told him it wasn't real. But Leo could still see him. He could smell him, hear him, feel him, taste him… suddenly he was there, grinning, touching him. Leo screamed and kicked, but it missed. Keeper cackled and grabbed him and pushed against him. Leo squirmed and screamed, but Keeper wasn't letting go. _Not again, not again, no, no, no…_

Leo was suddenly cold and wet. He opened his eyes. Keeper was gone. Sam was standing in his doorway with an empty bucket. Leo fell in a heap and sobbed. He'd been here… he'd tried to do it again… Leo had _felt_ him. Now Leo felt cold and uncomfortable.

"Just a halluc…" Leo didn't pay attention after that. He'd wanted to, but he couldn't. He could still feel Keeper. He was touching his shoulders, his arms, his back, hand slowly dragging lower…

"No!" It was happening again. It never stopped. And Leo could feel him forcing his way in…

"I really need to talk with you." Leo glanced up. The voice…

Keeper stopped.

Then he was gone. "I keep stepping on the vein that keeps my lifeline flowing through." Leo pushed himself up and stared out his door. Sam looked shocked. The girl… Leo collapsed, but he didn't mind; he didn't feel anything. "I wanna be your perfect stick of glue, but I don't feel perfect at all, a sad and insecure flaw, still…" Leo tilted his head despite being on the floor.

Karai was with the girl.

Yes… yes, he did want to be her stick of glue. Glue kept things together. But yes, he wasn't perfect… he was a mess. "I find it hard to hold conversations, I get sweaty-sick and I wanna walk away, yeah, it's like is it strictly me in this situation, and I'm wondering will it ever go away? Just go away, still, sometimes I feel like weeping, awake and when I'm sleeping, perfecting how to put a game-face on." Leo's eyes widened and he listened intensely. "And this puzzle I've been keeping, has been hiding, creeping out the closet door, spilling out onto the floor, how long… will I be picking up the pieces? How long will I be picking up my heart?" Leo hadn't realised he'd sat up and wiped his tears away. Sam was staring at him.

"… How long?" Sam didn't answer. "How long will _I_ be picking up the pieces, Sam?" Sam had green eyes. They were like jade, like, like… that… thing. A stick? Maybe… someone used to have one. Leo couldn't remember who. Sam moved, which Leo immediately tensed at. Leo liked Sam, but he was big and strong, much stronger than Keeper had been…

"Well, I don't know, Leo. I guess, if you keep dropping them, forever." Sam walked out. Leo looked at his toes and thought. Was he dropping his pieces? Leo nodded to himself. If he couldn't keep himself together…

The girl stopped singing. The girl. The girl with the purple eyes. The one who'd said his name. She knew; she knew what he thought; she'd laid it out for him. She knew him. And she was nice: she hadn't hit him when she'd scared him and he'd… tried to make her leave.

Leo was surprised he remembered that; usually—according to Sam—he didn't remember much of anything. All Leo remembered was the too-close walls, the stench, Keeper, the touching, the feelings… ninjutsu… and Karai. In hell, she'd kept him calm. When she touched him, even in his memories, he'd liked it.

But the girl with the violet eyes… she made him calm, too. But she didn't touch him with her hands: she touched him with her voice. And her eyes. Leo took a breath; next time she visited, he would try to be better.


	2. Chapter 2

TMNT The Glasses of Life

Chapter two, Book Three

The dojo was dead; the boys had never trained without Leo barking at them before, and April and Casey hadn't trained without Leo as a sub-instructor before. But Splinter knew the biggest fight of all would be upon them, and they needed to be ready.

"Which CD, Quinn?" Mel asked from the opposite end. Splinter exhaled and tried not to show his annoyance. He shouldn't be annoyed, really, all she'd done was ask a question, but his mind had immatured since meeting the girl.

"Uh… Battle Music!"

"Okay. Eh Sensei, it's a new record; eight times in a row."

Wayne laughed and handed Mel her wraps. "So, what do you two want to start with?" Splinter arched a brow, why ask?

"Hm… we should probably start with cardio, then endurance, then kata and precision to cool down," Mel said, "that should be our schedule from now on: it's efficient." Splinter gave a short sigh; who was in charge, Wayne or Mel?

"Yeah, sounds good. And how long should each program be?" Wayne asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Ten minutes?" Quinn asked, knowing it wouldn't happen. Mel chuckled.

"How 'bout an hour?" Quinn looked like she was about to pass out.

"An hour?! Mel, I don't wanna do squat jumps for an hour…"

"Oh it won't just be squat jumps." Quinn groaned.

"Okay, okay," Wayne said and raised his hands, "how about this: we do half an hour each, then Quinn can stop, and Mel does it again."

Mel shrugged. "Fine by me. That'll put Quinn at about four, four and a half hours, and me at eight-nine maybe." To Splinter's surprise, Quinn sighed in relief.

"Good, that I can do," she said.

The "training" Mel, Quinn, and Wayne were doing was the strangest Splinter had ever seen. They felt the need to _blast_ rock music as they did so, and they would try to move in rhythm to said music while they jumped rope, or did squat jumps with kicks at the end, or ran some contraption Mel had called "The Agility Ladder", or, Splinters _favourite_ : dance. They had full, choreographed routines and they would _dance_.

Splinter understood it was probably an attempt to keep Quinn interested in the workout, but it should in no way be part of the workout! It was definitely not appropriate dancing for an 11-year-old, either, in his opinion.

Then they moved on to "endurance", which was nothing more than an imaginary visit to the gym: more squats with kicks, push ups, sit ups, planks, something Mel had called "Cherry-Pickers", V-sits, deadlifts, which Mel did by lifting Quinn, and Quinn did by lifting Mel's guitar, and Wayne did by lifting Mel, who, by the looks of it, was much heavier than she appeared, and leg curls. Followed by smaller muscles, Splinter assumed it was the arms and feet, and then they did yoga moves. Splinter only recognised a few.

Once that was done, they finally moved on to something of somewhat fighting importance: katas. Splinter would have been okay with it, had they not attempted to follow the beat of the music while moving. The only one that had done decently was Mel, and she'd messed up countless times. "Remember, Mel, if you don't know it, walk it through slowly, perfect the movements… arm and leg movements." Instead of taking his advice and doing it over again, Mel gasped and jumped a few times.

"Does this mean it's perfectionist time?" Splinter had no idea what she meant, but Wayne smiled and nodded, which excited her. "Yes!" she turned to Quinn who was stuck in the middle of a kata. "I'm gonna level up, I'm gonna level up!" the girls shared a celebratory squeal, which was cut short by Wayne.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, remember what I told you?" Mel stopped smiling and nodded.

"Yeah, I know, I'm a white belt till I'm a black belt, but I can still level up by my own standards, right?"

"Sure, just don't get over-confident, or I'll show you what a black belt can do, alright?" Mel put a hand on her hip and tilted her head.

"I've been asking you to do that since you started teaching me." Wayne laughed.

"Yeah I know, but you didn't deserve the beating."

"But I wanna spaaaaaar," Mel whined. Quinn laughed at her childish complaint. Splinter found it all the more irritating. It didn't help when all Wayne did was laugh and pat her shoulder.

"Someday, kiddo." Mel pouted and was about to start a Kaki-Uki, when a voice disrupted everyone's peace.

"I'll spar with you," Raph said and strode towards her. He hadn't gotten to spar since returning, no one had wanted to, and Leo's condition was eating away at him. Leo was usually the one he'd spar with when he was angry, the cocky bastard would jump at the chance to show off a little, but only to him. Raph and Leo had a different sort of relationship, one built on sparring and sniping, and the occasional 'moment'.

Mel looked at Wayne, who was uncertain. "Um… I don't know-"

"Raphael," Splinter bellowed, "you are in the middle of training, get back here at once!" Raph ignored Splinter, too angry to care. Mel must have sensed it, because she stepped forward.

"Okay, let's do it. I'm not as good as you, but I do have a trick in my cap," she said and flicked the brim of her Pikachu hat.

"Raphael!" Mel flinched. Raph blinked and stepped back a few feet.

"Mel, I'm not sure about this," Wayne whispered.

"It's okay, Sensei, he won't hurt me. I won't let him," Mel teased and winked. Wayne sighed, put a hand on her shoulder and leaned towards her ear.

"Listen, Mel, I've seen the way these guys spar on the show, their "sparring" is your "beating the bag until your knuckles are bloody". Not to mention Lefty," Wayne poked Mel's left hand, "and they've been hit in the face before. You haven't. They've been cut before."

"I've done that," Mel said. It bothered Wayne, how casually she said it.

"That's different."

"I'll be fiiine." Wayne sighed and released Mel.

"Alright, I'm trusting you." Mel fist-pumped and skipped to Raph. She got into her position and waited—Wayne realised—for someone to tell them to begin.

Splinter was fuming. How dare his own son disobey him? How _dare_ he? All because he was a little upset? Because he felt he didn't _need_ the training? Fine then.

Splinter had seen Mel's attacks on the bag; she was vicious under the right circumstances. Hopefully vicious enough to teach Raphael a little respect. Splinter growled. "Alright." He glared at the duo. "Hajime."

Raph was first to attack. No weapons, of course, but Mel did panic for one second. She thrusted her arm forward, fingers straight and stiff, and jabbed his eyes. Raph yelled and stumbled backwards. Mel hesitated: she couldn't punch him, it wouldn't even dent him; she would have to rely on her legs. She kicked his stomach as hard as she could, which she'd initially thought wouldn't be very hard because she had bare feet, but Raph gasped and clutched his gut. Mel took the chance to grab his head and, once she was certain no one would stop her, slammed it into her knee three times, making sure she did not hit his nose; she didn't want to kill him. She then positioned herself like Wayne had shown her: feet at 45 degrees, back foot pointed out, channel the chi, and… Mel struck his wrist with a roundhouse kick. She'd aimed for his temple, but he'd blocked it just in time. Raph swung his leg but Mel jumped like it was a Skip-it and landed on him, careful to avoid his chest—she didn't want to stop his heart—and jumped off again. Still, Raph pushed himself up. Mel growled. She wasn't denting him fast enough; at this rate she would burn out trying to burn him out.

Wait, she'd _landed_ on him for god's sake, why wasn't Splinter telling them to stop? Mel coughed and glanced at Raph, who was rubbing his gut. "So… am I doing it right?" Raph grinned. His teeth were dyed red.

"You're doing it the way I like it, rough and dirty." Mel couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Please, Raph, you have to buy me dinner first." Mel ducked just in time. She then realised her mistake; she practically had a target on her face for Raph's knee. Without thinking, Mel sprung and uppercut Raph, whose knee slammed her clenched abs. Raph fell on his butt then rolled to Mel's left and rose. He almost didn't see her clutching her hand, the one she's just punched with. Raph stopped just as he reached her.

"Uh, Mel?" she was wincing through her teeth. Then Raph noticed the budding blue, black, and purple on her last two knuckles, the bubbling blood sprouting from in between. Raph gagged. He'd never seen anything remotely close to that; April had punched him several times and her knuckles never looked like that.

"I'm okay, I'm fine," she said and took deep breaths. Raph looked at Wayne, who was shaking his head.

"Mel, are you okay?" Quinn asked as she ran to her.

"Peachy," Mel breathed through her teeth. She took a deep breath and: "Quinn, be a lamb and grab me an ice pack? And some Polysporin? I think I may have broken a knuckle. Again." Mel smiled and let her hands fall to her sides; the blood trickled down her fingers. Once Quinn had left, Mel walked calmly to the bag, gave it a mighty slug with her other hand, and shouted: " **MOTHER FUCKER!** "

Donnie had looked over Mel's hand after she'd explained to the group that she was incapable of punching with her left hand. It wasn't broken or sprained, to Donnie's amazement, only bruised. Mel had grinned as Donnie patched her up, claiming her knuckles were used to it by now.

Sam heard it all as he carved. He heard Raph apologising, and Mel saying—annoyed, it seemed—it was alright, and that she was the idiot who thought she could do it. A pause, then: "It was fun. You and I need to spar more often."

He heard Splinter at Karai's door, asking gently if she was coming out for dinner. Sam knew she wouldn't; she was depressed. Rightfully so, but Splinter didn't understand, because despite his vast knowledge, he didn't know about Leo and Karai. He didn't know the bright, dripping ball they made together. Sam sighed; Splinter was very smart, but Leo had proven to be pretty crafty in all the years Sam had known him; he was a very good liar when he wanted to be, even with his family. Leo didn't lie to Sam because he never asked uncomfortable questions. In fact, Sam realised, he never talked to Leo, except when Leo talked first.

He heard Quinn, once the others had walked ahead, murmur to Mel: "Nice language by the way," as they walked behind him. Sam had heard Mel's scream as well. He hadn't looked up from his work, but he'd been surprised to see Quinn, walking out the "kitchen", clutching an ice pack, smile and shake her head. "Hey, Sam?" Sam looked over his shoulder.

There was Quinn, smiling, her dimples ever prominent. "Are you coming or what?"

"It's dinner time and I haven't started cooking yet," Mel clarified. "Quinn said she'd help out, but it would be nice to have more hands." Mel looked at Quinn and stuck her tongue out. " _That's_ how you ask for help," she teased. Quinn mimicked her. Sam put down his knife and rose.

"Okay." They walked past Karai's door and Sam only saw black. Black tentacles throwing anything colourful into the gaping hole they'd immerged from. He noticed Mel had stopped and gazed at the door, as if she saw it too.

At about two am, Mel rose and crept out her door, towards the kitchen. She gathered some leftovers and made two teas, chamomile, and tiptoed to Karai's room. Her "door" was nothing more than a sheet draped over the entrance, but Mel still knocked on the wall. "It's Mel," she whispered, "I hope you're decent, and awake, because I'm coming in."

Karai heard Mel, but she pretended to be asleep. She was not in the mood to talk. Something _clank_ ed and Karai felt another presence about a foot away from her. "I know you're awake; your breathing is too sharp to be asleep." Karai didn't respond. "REM, I studied it in Psych." Karai growled and sat up.

"What?" she snapped. Mel shoved something in her face, a mug… a full mug. It smelt like grass… no, not grass… petals.

"Chamomile," Mel said.

"… oh." Karai hesitantly took the mug, cupped it and breathed the warm scent. "Thanks," she whispered. Mel nodded.

"So, did you hear about my major fuck-up today?" Karai took a sip of tea, half interested.

"I guess that's why you screamed earlier?" Karai thought she saw Mel's cheeks darken.

"Oh, you… heard that, huh?"

Karai nodded. "How is it?" Mel took Karai's hand and placed it on the swollen mound of flesh and bone. Karai grimaced.

"Sore," Mel replied. "But I'll live."

Karai removed her hand and looked away.

"You know, you never did tell me what was with you and Leo," Mel said as she sipped her tea. "Are you two canon?" It took Karai a minute to remember what that meant. She nodded. Mel was grinning. "It's probably not my business, but, have you kissed?"

Karai arched a brow. "You're right; it's not your business." Mel pouted. Karai looked away and tried to calm down. "… Yes," she answered. Mel squealed. Karai looked at her. She was in mid-fist-pump.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! Take that, Leorai haters! Yes!" Karai waited until Mel was done celebrating to give her an odd look. "Hehe, sorry, but I've shipped you two since I first saw you. This is Christmas morning for me!"

"'Shipped'?" Karai asked.

"It means support, agree, 'I want these two to end up together'. I also ship Donnie and April for the first season, and about half the second one, but they stopped going places and it kinda died." Karai sighed, nearly growled.

"Quit doing that."

"What?"

"Stop calling it an 'episode', it's not, it's our life!" Mel held up her hands in surrender.

"Okay! Sorry."

"And stop using those stupid terms! Would you ever 'ship' people in real life?!" Mel looked away.

"You probably won't like my answer." Karai groaned. "I see you're taking advantage of your bitch pass." Karai didn't respond. "Can't blame you; I would too." Mel scooted beside Karai. "I know this entire scenario sucks balls, but you don't have to take it out on me; there's a perfectly hittable bag right around the corner." Karai got in Mel's face.

"Is that always your solution? Just hit the bag, that'll solve all the problems?!" Mel was about to respond, but she sensed Karai's frustration and shut up. "Life isn't a punching bag, Mel, you can't solve all your problems by hitting something! Just hitting the bag won't make the Kraang go away, it won't make Shredder leave me, us, alone, it won't bring Leo back…" Karai was breathing like she was giving birth. Her eyes shined in the darkness and Mel knew she was crying. "It won't bring my mother back." Mel didn't speak. "It won't wave a magic wand and make us all a family; it won't… make life easier. Life isn't a punching bag; it's nothing but… but…"

"Endless train wrecks with only brief commercial breaks of happiness?" Karai nodded and hugged herself. Mel looked at the wall and sang quietly: "Life's like a jump rope: up, down, up, down, up, down, life's like a jump rope… well, I guess this scenario is more like a falling rock, down, down, down, more down..." She let Karai sob and berate herself for letting this happen. Mel would have intervened, but she felt Karai needed to get this out of her system.

The next day was better, Mel had admitted that hitting the bag didn't solve anything, but it made things easier to solve. Karai had immerged to train with the others, and Mel could tell she felt a little better, but as Mel passed her room that night, she heard the violent sobs making a comeback.

"Life is an endless series of train wrecks with only brief commercial breaks of happiness," Mel quoted and stared sadly at Karai's "door". "I guess being with them before was the ultimate commercial break." Mel touched the curtain and sighed. "So now, it's time to return to our regularly scheduled program."


	3. Chapter 3

TMNT The Glasses of Life

Chapter Three, Book Three

She hadn't come back. She had been gone since five am. Mel was re-entering Donnie's new lab with a fresh ice pack. She had wrapped it in a dish cloth. "Anything?" Donnie didn't look at her.

"No."

Mel sighed and knelt next to Wayne. "Here." She placed the ice on his forehead. Wayne nodded in gratitude. He'd come down with a fever and couldn't do much besides eat, drink, and sleep.

"Mel, I'm worried," Donnie muttered. "You're certain she's just…?"

"What else could it be?" she asked nonchalantly. Mel knew she shouldn't be lying to possibly the only person that could save the girl, but she'd dealt with this sort of thing before, she'd gotten most of the pills out… three or five wouldn't kill. Plus, Mel had promised not to tell.

She'd gone to say hello to Karai that morning, ask if she wanted to accompany Mel for a morning stroll. She'd walked in on Karai trying to swallow a pill, one of Mel's allergy pills. "I didn't know you had allergies," Mel had said. Karai had slowly turned to her, lids drooping, mouth sloppy, skin blue as a sapphire. That was when Mel had reacted. No words, just dashed to Karai, forced her mouth open, and plunged her fingers down her throat. Karai had vomited a quarter of her weight. She'd muttered for Mel not to tell before she passed out. Mel had taken her to Donnie then, said she'd found her like that and couldn't wake her.

That was five hours ago. Mel hadn't left the lab except when Quinn had run in, claiming Wayne was dead. He'd merely fainted. In a way, it was lucky, Mel had suggested that Karai was sick as well, which took questioning off her unusually low supply of allergy pills. Mel sneezed and blew her runny nose. It had to be her allergy pills…

"Mel?" Mel snapped out of her trance and looked at Wayne. "I'm… not gonna train you two today…"

" _No_ , really?"

"You two should train without me… or take the day off. You're working hard and Quinn's…"

"Getting board," Mel finished. Wayne nodded and closed his eyes. Mel rose and stood next to Donnie who was standing over Karai.

"… I don't think she got the flu or whatever Wayne has, Mel," Donnie muttered. Mel didn't respond, but she did sneeze. She groaned and blew her red nose. "You're out of pills?" Mel cursed under her breath. "You had almost the full pack when you got… here…" Donnie paled and glanced at Karai. "Oh, god."

After Mel had run up top and picked up some more pills (she intended to get a good place to keep them) she and Quinn trained for three hours. Karai had woken up at around hour two, feeling like shit. Mel would have to have a serious talk with her later. Splinter didn't suspect anything but sickness, in fact; he looked disgusted when Mel suggested she'd caught it from Wayne. As if it were Wayne's fault she-

Mel took a breath and transitioned to her third kata. No point in getting worked up; Splinter didn't know. Besides, if he wanted to blame Wayne, let him, Mel knew Wayne wouldn't care.

"I'm tired," Quinn complained.

"I'm Hungry, nice to meet you, Tired." Quinn giggled.

"Nice to meet you too, Hungry." They kept practicing for about thirty minutes. "Can we stop for a minute?"

"You can. I don't wanna."

"But who'll hangout with me? Everyone else is training."

"Karai's not." Quinn thought it over.

"Yeah but I don't wanna get sick." Mel sighed; Quinn may be smart, but she was still a kid.

"Okay, how about one more walkthrough after this, then we stop?"

Quinn groaned. " _Fine._ "

Mel and Quinn sat against the wall singing to each other while Mel played her guitar. Mostly kiddie songs, as Mel put it, sing-alongs and campfire songs, because they could. Occasionally Mel would burst out in a rock frenzy.

They were unaware of the eavesdropping turtle on his hands and knees, hanging onto every word Mel sang.

 _My friends don't walk they run,_

 _Skinny dip in rabbit holes for fun,_

 _Popping, popping balloons with guns,_

 _Getting high of helium._

What was helium? Oh, it made voices go up?

 _We paint white roses red,_

 _Each shade from a different person's head,_

 _This dream, dream is a killer,_

 _Getting drunk with a blue caterpillar._

Leonardo saw and heard all of it: the bloody heads dyeing the roses, the never ending dream, the silly and fun times turned grey and rotten.

 _Now I'm peeling the skin off my face,_

' _Cause I really hate being safe,_

 _The normals, they make me afraid,_

 _The crazies, they make me feel sane._

The freshly peeled skin birthed the bloody skull, the razors, the cowering grey people, the laughing, colourful people.

 _I'm nuts! Baby I'm mad,_

 _The craziest friend that you've ever had,_

 _You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone,_

 _Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong!_

The colourful people screamed, and the grey people thought them freaks.

 _Over the bend, entirely bonkers,_

 _You like me best when I'm off my rocker,_

 _Tell you a secret: I'm not alarmed,_

 _So what if I'm crazy? The best people are!_

And in the center, and colourful, laughing, angry girl. A girl with toxic eyes.

Leo opened his eyes. She'd stopped singing… why? Leo looked out his door; the girl wasn't there, but her guitar sat in its open case. She must be coming back. Leo wished she would hurry up; he could feel Keeper again… he shuddered. The cold air gave him goosebumps and made him feel sick. The walls were closing in. Leo felt his breath, his lips, his… Leo gasped, growled, bit his lip, no, he wouldn't scream. He wouldn't give Keeper the satisfaction.

As soon as he heard the strings snap, Leo relaxed and the horrid feelings left him alone. He didn't know what she was singing, but the pictures were still nice.

A pale creature with fangs crawled along the shadows. Others joined it. Eventually they had an army, and they all sang together. They sang for acceptance. They sang for each other.

Leo realized he was at the edge of his door, staring at the toxic eyed siren. She was focused on her guitar, so she didn't notice him. Leo realized she was singing in a language he didn't know. He knew Japanese and English. What other languages were there…?

"Whoa!" Leo looked at the girl and was surprised to find her looking at him. "Jesus, Leo, warn a bitch." She put her hand on her heart. Leo studied the girl: she was oddly pale, wearing a sweater and fleece pants with snowflakes on them along with fluffy socks. Her hair was short and wild. And she was looking at him. Her eyes… Leo had never seen purple eyes before. They were bright, but not neon, and they were darker than he'd thought. "Uh… hi?"

Leo realised his face was very close to the girl's. He blushed and backed away, ashamed. The girl smiled. "Come on, I'm not _that_ scary." Leo froze: she was talking to him. What would he do? He hadn't talked to anyone for so long… especially not one as nice as this girl.

"Y-you're not… scary…" Leo then recalled why he didn't talk: his voice, that grinding growl, it ripped his throat apart. By the way the girl flinched, she felt the same way. He looked down.

"Neither are you." Wait, what? He looked up again. The girl was smiling. "You're not scary at all. You're just _scared_. Fear can make people do and say scary things, but that doesn't make them bad." They were silent for a while, except for the girl strumming absentmindedly. "Want me to play a song?"

Leo tried to think of something to say. "Um… yes." He looked to his side then added, "Please."

The girl smiled again. "Any requests?" Leo didn't know what she meant.

"I'm… not sure."

"I mean what type of song do you want me to play? Unless you have a specific song in mind. Can't guarantee I'll know it, though."

Leo thought about it; he still wasn't sure what she meant, but he'd liked the one slower song she'd played… "Do you know any slow songs?" the girl pursed her lips and put a finger to her chin.

"Yeah, but most are sad."

Leo shrugged. "I just like your singing." The girl grinned.

"In that case, I have an awesome song for you." Leo arched a brow. "It's called Behind Blue Eyes." As she strummed the opening chords, she grinned at him. "My name's Mel, by the way."

Leo liked Mel. She understood… and she wasn't afraid of him. She treated him like a normal person… not a mutant or a victim, a person. She joked with him. She wasn't afraid to touch him. She wasn't afraid to let him touch her. And she liked blue.

He'd told Mel how little he remembered. She'd thought it over. "Makes sense if you got hit in the head a lot." Leo averted his gaze.

"I don't remember." Mel had laughed.

"Of course you don't." Leo hugged his knees to his chest. "Is there anything specific you remember besides… you know." Leo had nodded. He hadn't told Mel exactly what had happened, but she didn't push him.

"Ninjutsu, Donnie, Raph, Mikey, and Karai." Mel had arched a brow.

"Not Splinter or April or Casey?" Leo had shaken his head.

"I don't know Casey. I know the names Splinter and April, but they mean nothing to me." Mel nodded and stroked her chin.

"Hm… interesting. Hey, Leo?"

"Yes?"

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but… were you and Karai more than friends?" Leo arched a brow.

"I don't understand your question." Mel had rubbed the back of her neck.

"Okay: did you two kiss a lot?" Leo had nodded, then looked at the floor.

"We had sex." Mel had jumped and stared at him like she'd just noticed he was a mutant. Leo had crossed his legs. He'd assumed, since Mel had told him Karai had talked to her about 'them', that she'd known. "Is this news to you?" Then again… it was Karai.

"Kinda, yeah," Mel replied after a moment's hesitation. She then bit back a grin and a squeal. "Just… just give me a moment to bask in it…" Mel took a deep breath and centered herself as if finding her chi.

That was when Donnie had shown up and taken Mel away. He'd been shocked to find her with Leo.

Mel had waved to him as she left with her guitar and Leo had waved back. He smiled at Mel's reaction to him and Karai. At least she was in favour… maybe she could help him revive himself, revive the ninja Karai had kissed that first time… maybe she could not only figure out what was wrong with him, but fix it, too. Maybe she could fix _him_.

Maybe Keeper wouldn't come back.

-Note-

So apparently this chapter got corrupted when I posted it the first time, but not to worry, I'm pretty sure I fixed it. Sorry for the inconvenience!


	4. Chapter 4

TMNT The Glasses of Life

Chapter Four, Book Three

Mikey woke up to Mel's hollering.

"I did it, I did it! I got hired! WOOHOO!"

Mel and Quinn were doing the Egyptian walk when Mikey stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes. "Guys, it's nighttime, we're trying to sleep…" Mel had rushed up to him.

"Mikey wake yourself up you're going to love me for this!" Mikey shook himself awake and met her glimmering eyes. "I got hired at Antonio's Pizza place!" Mikey gasped, grinned, picked Mel up, and spun around.

"Yes! Yes! You're serious?!" Mel nodded. Mikey hugged her. "Yes! I could kiss you!" Mel laughed and tapped his head.

"Mind letting me go? I don't like hugs very much." Mikey stared in horror.

"What? Who doesn't like hugs?!" Mel laughed as he released her.

"Uh, me? I'll settle for a fist bump, though," she said and extended her left fist. Mikey pouted and bumped it gently, avoiding the bruises on her last two knuckles. "Hey, cheer up, I can still get us discount pizza without hugging the customers."

"What is going on out here?!" Splinter bellowed from behind them. Mikey and Mel jumped. Quinn screamed, then laughed upon seeing the giant rat. "It's late, Mel, what is so important that—?!"

"Splinter, look!" Mel shoved the letter of acceptance in his face. "I got a job! I didn't think I would get it, but I did!" Splinter took a deep breath and pushed the paper away.

"That's nice." He didn't want to ruin her good mood. Mel took the hint and calmed down.

"Sorry, I was just really happy. I really did not think I would get that job, I mean; you have to smile, all the time. I was only smiling because I'm here," Mel gestured to the lair, "even though I could literally die momentarily, it's _so_ much better than my dimension."

"Speak for yourself, kiddo," Wayne mumbled as he shuffled towards her. Mel smiled sympathetically.

"Sorry, Wayne, I know you don't like indoor jobs…" Wayne held a similar letter of acceptance to Antonio's Pizza place.

"The one city that's completely booked for everything that has to do with the outdoors." Mel chuckled nervously.

"Yeah… bummer." Wayne sighed.

"At least I'll be able to keep an eye on you." Mel stuck her tongue out.

"Well, I guess I'd better go practice my service smile in the mirror," Mel said and strolled towards her room, a small square she'd claimed simply because she knew she'd have it to herself. "The last time I smiled at someone, I was in Costa Rica challenging one of the monkeys to an alpha-off." She looked at them over her shoulder with a smirk. "And I won."

Hun entered the pizza place and waited for the hostess. Shredder had told him to search the city for new 'recruits'. Having no clue where to start, and having skipped breakfast, a pizza place sounded good to him.

The hostess, after speed-walking from table to table, gave him a quick smile and told him she would seat him in a minute. She had short black hair with some fading blue on the bangs. Hun didn't think much of her; she was petit and looked to be more of a fashionable goth than a fighter.

"Sir?" Hun glanced at the girl. Her eyes shocked him; stunning violet. "How many in your party?" he held up one finger. She nodded, which he found odd; most people were insulted by such gestures, and jotted it down. "Follow me," she said after tucking a menu under her arm. She led him to a table in the center of the restaurant. "I'll be back with your water and a menu." She scurried away.

Hun glanced around the crowd. Not many people looked like fighters; all were flabby and jiggly, huffing from the thirty second walk from the door to their table. Others looked so skinny they would snap if the wind picked up. He sighed. Maybe he should have gone to a bar… "Here you are," the hostess said and handed him a menu. "Do you know what you would like to drink?" Had she not set his water at just the right angle, Hun would have missed it: bruises on her last two knuckles, gruesome looking—she could have only gotten those in a fight.

"Coffee, black, espresso." He did not look away from her knuckles as she left. It would explain her attitude, he supposed. Most people were intimidated by his presence; knowing he had power over them. Either she didn't fear pain, or she had enough power to feel safe.

Then again, the bruises could be from delicate skin… no, she was carrying a steaming mug towards him without a towel; her hand was right on the mug. "I'll send over a waiter to take your order."

"Thank you." She left. Hun retrieved a notepad from his pocket and jotted down: _Antonio's Pizza; short blue haired girl, violet eyes, bruised knuckles; maybe_.

"Hello, are you ready to order?" Hun looked up. A skinny, wrinkly man stood before him. The man, most likely in his 40's, was tanned to the bone, and his teeth were yellow and crooked. He smelt of alcohol and cigarettes, and had scars and calluses as far as Hun could see. He looked awfully unhappy.

"Yes, a small meat lover's pizza with extra sauce." The man scribbled down his order.

"Anything else?" Hun huffed in annoyance.

"No."

"Alright. I'll be back in a moment with your food." Hun let his breath out; the smell had nauseated him. He scribbled in his jot book: _tanned alcoholic; maybe._

Fong sighed as Sid and Tsoi hit each other behind him. Hun had instructed them to attack two people; a blue-haired goth girl and a skinny tanned man, to test their skill and see if they would be useful to Shredder. They'd missed the goth: she was quieter than they'd thought, and more agile. They were stalking the skinny guy now, and Fong was losing his patience.

"Would you two idiots shut up?!" he whispered harshly. "You'll spook the guy!" the duo stopped like children caught fighting over a cookie neither was allowed to have. Fong looked ahead and was stunned to find the skinny man staring at him, arms crossed, tapping his foot.

"Can I help you, boys?"

"Hello, Mel," Splinter said as he heard the girl skipping— _skipping_ —past him.

"Howdy, Master Splinter," she replied. He still wasn't sure about her attitude. "I gotcha something." His ears perked and he faced her. Mel was smiling so intensely; it showed her dimples. "Well, actually, I _made_ you something." She handed him a piece of wrapped paper. "I get the feeling, being a traditional Sensei from Japan, you don't care for my… let's call it an attitude." She chuckled nervously. "I want us to get along, since I always looked up to you in the show… I know it's not a show anymore, but…" Splinter stared at her. Mel ran her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, you're right; shutting up now."

Splinter hesitantly took the paper and slipped it out of the ribbon. He unfolded it, and it nearly took his breath away. Mel had drawn Tang Shein in charcoal, in amazing detail.

Mel cleared her throat. Splinter glanced at her. "Does that make up for the endless snark I have?" he blinked. "I know I'm not exactly easy to like." He shook his head.

"It's not that, Mel; it's just that I feel the swearing is unnecessary. And the drawing is beautiful."

"Beauty is an abstract, but thank you," Mel replied, "and swearing helps me express myself. You know, without hitting people." She shrugged. "I may or may not be constantly battling with my violent rage, and swearing may or may not keep the hatred at bay." Splinter's ear twitched in annoyance, and Mel noticed. "I know that sounded rude, but that's just how I talk. Sorry… the bluntness also helps keep me calm." She chuckled. "I'm a wreck, I know."

Splinter walked to his shelf and placed Mel's drawing behind the photo of him and Shein. "Should I be taking any of what you're saying seriously?" Mel pursed her lips and rocked on her heels.

"Not serious-seriously, but seriously enough for it to be true… and that doesn't make a lick of sense, does it?" Splinter stared, calculating every word. Was this really how she talked to everyone?

"It's common for you to put yourself and others down when you speak?" Mel arched a brow.

"Myself, yes; it boosts my confidence, believe it or not, others… I don't think I've ever put anyone else down. Deliberately, anyway. I'm not a bully. And if I ever do, I totally give you permission to smack me upside the head," she pointed to her temple, "I deserve it; I'm picking on people…"

"I don't think that's necessary," Splinter said quickly. What a strange human. "I don't want us to fight either, Mel. You're a good person, to be helping us when you don't know us."

"Well…" Mel gave a tentative smile. "That's debatable. You guys are, kind of, my heroes. But I always promised myself, no matter how much I love someone, I'd never change to please them."

A heavy silence followed Mel's declaration. Splinter couldn't decide if he tolerated her yet. She was good; there was no denying that, but she was… rude. Unstable. Selfish. A bit like Kennedy, he realised, but worse, somehow. Flawed. "Mel?"

"Hmm?" she looked at him.

"What did you mean by; 'beauty is an abstract'?" No better way to tolerate her than to know all about her.

"I meant, everyone's definition of beauty is different, some call beautiful a sunset, a mother-child relationship, a song, blood, a bad joke. Beauty has become so many things; that it's nothing: it no longer physically exists. It's a dying metaphor: it's meaningless. Empty. Every time you use the word; you're a dehydrated man drinking from an empty jug. It means nothing because it's different for everyone." She leaned on her left leg. "You probably think the smiles of your children are beautiful." She smiled. "I think freedom and revolution, acceptance and sympathy, colours and music, are beautiful." Splinter was so caught up in her speech that her laughter shocked him. "I like English, in case you couldn't tell."

She stuck her hands in her pockets and walked to the reflex bag. Splinter watched her attack it like a rabid wolf. "Where is Wayne?"

"He told me he was gonna be late," she replied before giving the bag a slug. Splinter approached.

"How late?"

"Late enough," Wayne replied from behind, "sorry, some punks tried to rob me." Mel stopped hitting the bag.

"Is that why you were in such a rush to get me back here?" Splinter detected annoyance in her tone. Wayne gave a gentle smile.

"Maybe." He pat her head. "So, how long have you spent on the bag tonight?"

"Literally zero minutes." Wayne winced.

"I guess someone's only getting seven hours of sleep tonight, isn't she?" Mel laughed.

"Make it six," she said and knocked the bag over with a roundhouse kick.

Shredder examined the wounded purple dragons, pleased at the skinny man's work. "Bradford, Miles." His lackeys approached and bowed. Shredder smirked and handed the mutants four sheets of paper. "We have our four new members. See to it that they're recruited right away."

Griffin Lockhart sighed and turned off his TV; nothing to watch, just like any other night. He stood, wandered into the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water; classes started early tomorrow, seven am. He had ten students, all of which were nearly ready to become black belts.

He chugged his water, put the glass in the sink, and strode to his bedroom. It was small and simple; a bed, a lamp, a dresser, and a yoga mat at the foot of his door; to help encourage physical activity mornings and nights. He dropped onto his knuckles and did push ups, not bothering to count. He didn't care about beating old records anymore; as a 56 year old man who'd eaten processed food and smoked for over half his life, he just wanted to live to see tomorrow.

"This time it'll be different," Mable Loraxx's manager insisted, "this guy's really looking for a top-notch fighter like you!" she sighed. "C'mon, Loraxx, he's holding an interview at that old TCRI building, give it a chance, would ya? 12 o'clock, bring your Gi." _Click._

Mable hung up. Damien had lead her astray on his supposed 'sure-shot deals' many times, so many; Mable had started to doubt herself as a fighter. She'd been kickboxing for 19 years, over half her life, and she'd always been labeled as average. None of the bigger agencies had wanted her; none would even acknowledge her existence, until Damien had come along. He'd promised they'd reach their dreams of fame together. He'd made her feel significant. But as offer after offer was rejected, both had been worn down by the stresses of organising each other's cluttered lives. Mable could still fight; of course, just a few hours ago she'd whopped three men's sorry asses for trying to rob her, and then some…

She headed to her couch and lay on her back, letting out her breath. "I swear, Damien, if you get my hopes up again, those three assholes won't be the only ones missing teeth."

"Hey there, stranger," the bartender sang as the cloaked figure sat before him for the third time tonight. "You lost?"

"Give me the special," the man grumbled. The bartender, Corbin, chuckled and shook his head.

"Take it easy, Homie, wouldn't want one of my most popular customers to die of their favourite product." He slid the shot glass to the cloaked figure, who caught it with a gloved hand and downed it. He let out his breath, then flicked it back at Corbin.

"Another."

"Jeez, dude." Corbin reluctantly poured the man another drink. "Seriously, take it easy."

"I'll take it easy when I'm dead," the man snapped.

"You might be if you keep this up." Once the man finished his drink, Corbin politely cut him off and went back to washing his prized glasses. This cloaked man had been in here at nine o'clock, causing a ruckus over nothing. Corbin, as usual, had settled his drunken adrenalin rush with the offer to take the fight outside. Not many people won a fight with Corbin, not because of his freakish bulk, but because of his cunning and skill; he had no formal training, he merely knew how to expose people's weaknesses.

The man had put up a good fight, even landed some pretty brutal hits on him, until he'd made a foolish judgement in movements, and Corbin had seized the opportunity. He supposed he'd won the man's respect, because he hadn't left the bar alone afterwards.

"You're pretty good in a fight," the man remarked, slurring. Corbin shrugged.

"Ya hafta be in the bartending business." The man nodded.

"Y'ever wanna get better?"

Corbin shrugged again. "Everyone wants to get better, it's human instinct." The man sat up straighter. Corbin got a better look at his form, even in the harsh bar lighting, and god was he bulky. And short.

"What if I could help you?" Corbin arched a brow.

"No offence, sir, but I think we've established the better fighter already." Though his face was shadowed, Corbin could _feel_ the man smirking.

"Have we, now?" his voice took on a demonic vibrato and he stood so quickly he knocked over his stool. "Shall we 'take this outside', stranger?"

"You already up for another round?" Corbin asked in disbelief. The man snickered in response and beckoned Corbin after him with his finger as he made his way outside. Corbin sighed and followed; he knew he should have made the man lay off sooner.

A crowd gathered around the two fighters, customers and old friends cheering for Corbin. The beefy brain had never liked fighting, he only threw a punch if there was nothing else he could do, and he rarely accepted requests of combat, even if it was just sparring; but something about this man's dark demeanor and aura told him declining the fight would end in disaster.

He noticed the man hadn't flat-out attacked him like before, he stood still, waiting for him to make a move, Corbin guessed. "You'd better start, or we'll be here awhi—!" Fast! Corbin looked to his left—where he thought he'd seen the man run—but a slug to his right cheek broke his focus. He tried futilely to block the on slot of punches, but the man was stronger and faster; when had he gotten this good?!

"Not everyone who wanders in here is a stupid drunk who reveals all his secrets in the first fight," the man cooed before upper-cutting Corbin so hard he blacked out for about three seconds. When he came too, the man had him pinned with a blade to his throat. Corbin gulped; it was hidden behind his massive gloves; none of the bystanders could see his doom. "Now," the man began, and Corbin froze at the sight of his eyes; they were lizard-like, yellow corneas and dirty green irises, "about my previous offer."


	5. Chapter 5

TMNT The Glasses of Life

Chapter Five, Book Three

Mel reloaded one of the pistols she'd smuggled and took aim at the wall. God she loved guns; they were like insta-kill bow and arrows. She spat out her dull bubble gum and squeezed the trigger.

 **Bam!**

She hoped she was far away enough so the others (especially Splinter) didn't hear her… well, she knew that was impossible, but she hoped they at least would dismiss the noise if it was distant enough.

She approached the wall and examined the cracked brick. Yes, she'd aimed correctly. As usual.

She smirked; all her life the doctors had told her ocular albinism would destroy her eyes, but it had done the opposite, enhancing her vision while giving her some badass irises. She knew it wasn't normal, but hey, if it helped her see better, who was she to complain? Plus, purple eyes were gorgeous.

Mel took aim again and was about to shoot when something tapped her shoulder. She gasped and turned, pointing the gun at a petrified Leonardo. She sighed in relief and lowered the weapon. If she had to choose another colour for her eyes, it would definitely be blue. "We really need to establish some ninja-ing boundaries here, Leo." Had he followed her out here? She supposed that was alright; how else would she find her way back?

Leo was staring at her pistol. She glanced at it, then back at him. "Wanna give it a shot?" He looked at her with strained eyes, but his mouth was twitching. She grinned and placed it in his shaking hands. "It's not hard, and it won't kick, I have pellets in there, like the kind used in Beebe-Guns." She helped him hold the gun properly. "See that notch in the top? That's how you take aim. Then once you're done, squeeze the trigger." She tapped his finger.

Leo hesitantly took aim and fired. He was way off. "Try again." He fired again, and missed, worse than before. "Don't forget to aim." Leo took his time aiming before firing. Much better, but still mediocre. "Here," Mel said and dug through the bag full of guns she'd dragged along, pulling out a target, covered in dents. "Try to hit the center of this." She held it against the wall. Leo gulped.

"Aren't you going to move your hand?" he coughed, still not used to talking. Mel arched a brow.

"Why would I? You won't hit me." Leo hesitantly took aim, taking his time. He fired. He'd hit the target, but around the edge. "See? I told you ya wouldn't hit me," she sang and grinned.

They stayed there for a long time, how long, Mel and Leo weren't sure, but Leo's hands were starting to ache. His arms fell and he was panting. Mel took the gun and tucked it back in the duffle bag. "Let's take a break." Leo nodded and sat against the wall. Mel sat next to him. "Guns are a wild old time, eh?" Leo nodded, though he didn't really know what she meant.

"Splinter doesn't like them." He coughed again. Mel snorted.

"Neither did my mom, but that didn't stop me." Leo blinked, studying her.

"Where is she?" Mel glanced to her right.

"Jail." Leo arched a brow.

"What's that?" Mel slowly met his eyes.

"It's where bad people go." She took a breath. "Or really, really good people that don't conform to the norms of society." Leo blinked. Mel chuckled, "sorry, it's a place for bad people to be punished, or good people to be whipped into… average-ness, I guess." Leo didn't respond. Mel sighed. "It's hard to explain. Basically, my mom did something bad, and the police were like: bitch, no! And took her to jail." Leo thought this over for several minutes.

"She's still in your dimension?" Mel nodded. "Do you miss her?"

"Not really."

Leo arched a brow. "Why?"

"I'm a lone wolf, Leo, I don't miss anyone."

"What about Wayne and Quinn?" His confidence shocked Mel, but she blinked as if she'd expected his question.

"That's different." Intense silence. "You remembered their names?" Leo gasped and stared at her like she'd told him the meaning of life.

Mel studied him; she hadn't expected him to look like this, so real. He was handsome, despite being a mutant. His scales were such a pure green-turquoise, it reminded her of… well, the first time she'd seen him in action, TMNT 2012 Season One Episode One: Rise of the Turtles Part One. Mel sighed: it was so hard to think of them as real, because now, when bad shit happened, it _really_ happened; it wasn't 'just a show' anymore.

Splinter _really_ hated her. Karai had _really_ tried to kill herself. Leo was _really_ broken.

Though, on the positive side, Raph was _really_ gay. She snickered.

"What?" Leo whispered. She shook her head.

"Never mind. C'mon," she hauled him up, packed up the bags, slung them over her shoulder, and motioned for Leo to walk her back to the lair, "I've gotta go to work soon."

"Don't leave." The sternness in his voice made her shiver.

"Huma?"

"Don't go," he demanded again. Mel arched a brow: this was new.

"Uh, I kinda have to, Leo. We need food, and to get food, we need money, and to get money, Wayne and I have to work." Leo processed this as if he'd just learned it.

"… There's no other way?"

"Nope." He pouted, and Mel nearly decided to call in sick. "Well… hey, it's cool man, I'll be back later." Leo's eyes brightened at this. Mel smiled as they took a left turn. "Would you feel better if I left you some books of mine or something? It must be boring in that room all alone."

Leo smiled like a child on Christmas. "I like books." Mel laughed.

"Me too; my Writer's Craft teacher always said: "expand your horizons, read another book." God I miss that class." They were half way back when Mel added; "I have about 300 books at home." Leo's jaw dropped.

"Can you take me back with you?" Mel doubled over; it wasn't what Leo had said, but the way he'd said it that caught her. Leo was staring at her when she finally calmed down. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, hah!" Mel bit her finger and held back giggles. "Oh, Leo, if only it wouldn't piss Splinter, and possibly Karai, the hell off, then absolutely!" She wrapped a jolly arm around his shoulders, "God I love it here." Leo had tensed at her touch, but after a few seconds of not feeling Keeper, he relaxed and pat her hand. Mel chatted, mostly to herself, as they walked back, and Leo smiled; his heart wasn't beating as fast as usual. He wasn't as nervous as usual. His hands were shaking, but they weren't sweaty. This was fine. He was fine.

Mel exhaled once she got back to the lair. Casey had waited outside the pizza place to walk her and Wayne back; she'd ended up liking him more than she thought she would. She'd been on edge all day; unable to shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Wayne had noticed immediately—bless his heart—and asked if she needed to head back early. Apparently her stress was evident, which was odd, considering Mel herself. She'd lost count of how many customers asked if she was alright. She took a deep breath: it was good to be home.

"Guess who's back," she sang and shuffled into the main room; the waterfall room. Mikey popped out from the pool and smiled at her.

"Hey Mel!"

"Hey, kiddo." She spun past him and subtly glanced in Leo's room. He was engrossed in one of the books she'd left for him; Jonathan Livingston Seagull. She grinned; that book would do him some good. She wandered on and found Karai sitting on the 'kitchen' counter as Donnie fooled with the sink—which was actually a hose he'd hooked up to the pool in a tin.

"So it was just clogged?" her voice was still husky, but at least she was talking. Donnie nodded and twisted the hose.

"The grime should shoot out once I've loosened the canals…" the minute he finished speaking, brown gunk shot out and exploded on Karai's stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She toppled off the counter but Donnie caught her before she hit the ground. His next words were rapid-fire apologies and concerns, "Ohmygosh I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it would do that! Are you okay?! Karai?!" Karai was half touching her stomach, blank faced.

Mel burst into laughter, catching their attention. "Oh my god, you guys have no idea how perfectly timed that was!" She slapped her knee. "That was better than when, than when," she weakly pointed to Karai, "when you called Leo stupid but adorable, and he got all dorky, then you swung at him at he was like;" Mel tried to mimic his expression, "WHAH! Hahah!" she toppled onto her back and gripped her gut, rolling around like a potato bug. "Oh my god, Karai, you're awesome!" she sputtered between bursts of laughter.

Karai studied Mel, and Mel was certain she was in for an ass-whipping when Karai started shaking. Mel forced herself to calm down before Karai got too upset. "Okay, okay, I'm calm now—pfft! No, Mel, stop that!" she took a breath, only to find Karai smiling under her bangs. Was… was she giggling? Mel arched a brow, biting her finger. "You—pfft—you okay, Karai?"

"Hahaha!" Mel blinked and stared at her: she'd never heard Karai laugh before; chuckle, sure, but not full out, uncontrollable laughter like this. "Hahahaha!" she bent over, smiling more than Mel had thought possible. Donnie was on the verge of panic.

"Oh my god, I broke her!" that sent Mel over the edge again: she fell right back onto the floor.

"Pfft! Hahaha! You, you broke—oh Don-Donnie, hah! Never change!" The girls carried on in ecstasy, none really sure why it was so funny anymore, only laughing out the fear and stress they'd been holding back. Donnie was frozen, he looked between Karai and Mel several times like they were cats prepared to pounce.

"What is it this time, Mel?" Splinter snapped, approaching with Quinn in toe, his ear twitching in annoyance. Mel gasped until she could form a decent sentence.

"THE SINK THREW UP ON KARAI!" She planted her face to the ground and muffled scream-laughter followed her statement.

"No way!" she heard from Quinn, who raced around to see, and followed in Mel's laughter.

The girls went to bed with sore jaws that night, but none of them cared: they were happy, goddamnit. Mel had loaned Karai a large, soft, black hoodie. The hood had little nubs that, according to Mel, were cat ears. Again, Karai marvelled in how good it felt to wear normal clothes, soft and tame; so unlike the skin-tight armour Shredder had designed for her. She preferred fighting in loose Gi.

Mel understood that. Karai sighed and lay on her back; Melancoly Hills, the girl whose name was literally 'depressing hills', could always understand, and make her laugh. Whose idea was it to name her that, anyway? She wasn't depressed or cynical… in fact, Mel was the happiest person Karai knew. Why was she so proud of a name that made her sound like the product of a hipster and goth parents attempt at originality?

Karai closed her eyes; no point in losing sleep over a name.

Shredder grinned at his new mutant posse: all he lacked was one final fighter. The skinny man.

"You're sick!" the Aikido instructor shouted. Griffin Lockhart. His mutation was quite gruesome; a slimy, transparent lizard with bulging yellow eyes and sickly blue skin. His organs were visible. His teeth were small and yellow, and he had two rows of them, with a sticky tongue that could double as a whip. Shredder had cut off one of his four fingers as a test, and was pleased to find it slowly regenerating. "You can't do this to us!"

"Silence!" Miles twisted his arm and held him still. Shredder nodded in approval. "Once all of you have learned your place, you'll aid my men in the recapture of the city." The city was anyone's game as of Kennedy's death. No one had done anything to assert dominance. Shredder had to make sure everyone knew he was still in charge. Especially the Kraang. In order to do that, he needed the most powerful mutants. There was a silver lining in Kennedy's death; he'd found all her old notes on the modified mutagen after some spare foot bots rummaged through her lake house. As well as some very intriguing ancient spells… "Now, Miles, Bradford, take our new recruits to the lab." He sneered; he would perfect the mutagen, and then he would be unstoppable, and Yoshi and those damn turtles would finally pay.

The mutants struggled against his lackeys as they 'escorted' them out. It would finally be better… he would finally get his revenge.

Quinn bit her lip as Mel fumbled around the kitchen, searching for the apple she'd set aside yesterday. Something was wrong with Mel; she never fumbled. And she was talking much more than usual; it was usually shocking to people when they found out Mel wasn't mute.

"Apple, apple, apple, apple, where did I put my precious apple?" she sang to herself. Quinn poked at her omelet; Mel would be alright, she always was. "Ah, there you are, precious," she muttered and held the apple in her mouth as she tied her shoe.

"Mel, why are you so talk-y today?" Quinn chewed a piece of the fluffy egg while Mel fumbled with the shoelace.

"Beffusss ffumffinfff wromm wiff," she finished tying her shoe and took the apple out of her mouth, "sorry, because something's wrong with the atmosphere."

Quinn swallowed. "Huh?"

"The air is thick and heavy today, don't you feel it?" Quinn arched a brow and focused on the air. Now that Mel mentioned it, it did feel rather… grey, and anxious today. "I just think something bad is gonna happen. No good vibes today." She shivered.

"You could always call in sick," Quinn suggested. She didn't know if staying behind would help or not, but at least she'd be able to keep an eye on Mel. And have someone to hang out with. Mel shook her head.

"I haven't even had this job for a month, Quinn, if I call in sick, I may as well quit." She sighed. "Besides, I like working; I get filthy moneys." Quinn laughed and took another bite of her omelet. Mel placed a glass of water in front of her, and the girls shared a knowing smile—Quinn hated white milk, and despite being a health fanatic, Mel never made her drink it, always letting her have the chocolate milk. "I'll see you soon, okay?" Quinn nodded and turned back to her breakfast.

Mel bundled up, two sweaters over her uniform, one giant winter coat, and heavy, durable winter boots with her work shoes in a plastic bag. She clipped a couple knives to her pants and slipped a sachet of Karai's blinding powder into her bra; just in case.

"Are you that paranoid?" Mel didn't face him, she didn't have to.

"Yep." Wayne sighed and slipped on his jacket; neither of them were good with the cold.

"I feel it too." Mel bit her cheek. "I was considering calling in sick."

"Quinn asked me to as well." They sighed in unison. "You brought weapons too, didn't you?" she teased. Wayne chuckled.

"One Kunai, Mel."

She laughed. "Oh, bullshit." Wayne shook his head.

"Okay, yeah, 20."

"That's more like it." They stood in silence until they couldn't afford to procrastinate any longer. With cautious eyes and tense muscles, Mel and Wayne walked to Antonio's Pizza Place, all too aware of the piercing glare that followed them.


End file.
